


Fullmetal Alchemist: The Manga Novelization

by ESP_Witch



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Canon - Manga, Novelization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 10:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13702338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ESP_Witch/pseuds/ESP_Witch
Summary: A complete novelization of the original Fullmetal Alchemist manga, because I thought only using it to better my own writing would be stingy. Frequent updates.





	1. The Two Alchemists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have realized that in order to create good fic, I need to go to the source material. This novelization is that fic. Written using Japanese scanlations of the original manga. Meant to foster a better understanding of the text, and eventually lead to better fanfic. Here we go.

Fullmetal Alchemist

Chapter One: The Two Alchemists

Electricity crackled in the study, illuminating old walls and bookshelves. “... Al! Al! Alphonse! Damnit! How could this have happened?!”

A blond boy with golden eyes was knelt before a vast, intricately drawn scientific circle on the floor, on his hands and knees, alone in the empty room. Electricity crackled from the center of the circle.

“This… shouldn’t have happe -... Damnit!”

The boy’s left leg below the knee had been ripped off of him, and the stump sat bleeding on the floor. This was why he was perspiring, why his speech kept breaking off.

“I’ve lost it!” he called, grimacing and making a fist.

A painless lesson is one without any meaning. One who does not sacrifice anything cannot achieve anything.

-

Radios crackled to life from all over a desert town, illuminating a religious broadcaster’s voice.

“Children of God who live on this Earth, have faith, and thou shalt be saved. The god of the sun, Leto, enlightens thy path. Behold, having descended from his throne, the Lord shall save thee from thy sins. As a messenger of the sun god, I am your Father.”

A vast suit of armor listening said, “... A radio broadcast of a sermon?”

The teenage boy beside him took a bite of food, frowning seriously. “A messenger of God…? What’s that?”

The old mustached man running the lunch counter they were eating at stared at the two. “I think I ought to be saying ‘what’s that’ about you. Are you street performers?”

The teenage boy spat out the sip of drink he’d been taking. He was the same golden-eyed boy from the circle scene, but many years older, now a slim teenage pretty-boy at sixteen years old. (The age probably purposeful in the manga - At one year past coming of age ceremonies for Japan, and as someone legal to drive or have sex with adults but not to drink or marry, this boy is a kid in the eyes of some laws and an adult in the eyes of others.) His blond hair had grown into a long braid, and he wore a tight black leather outfit, a long red coat, and white gloves. The gigantic suit of armor sitting beside him didn’t help matters.

“Okay, pops, what part of us looks like street performers?” the teenage boy demanded.

“I keep looking, but that’s all you could be…” the old man at the lunch counter admitted, still staring. Meanwhile, passing running kids were loudly and verbally awed by the suit of armor. “I don’t see people with faces like yours around these parts very often. Tourists?”

Casually, the teenage boy put the straw in his mouth like a toothpick and his chin in a gloved hand, bored, revealing a bit of skin on his wrist. “Yeah, we’re just looking for something. Anyway, what’s with this broadcast?”

“You haven’t heard of Lord Cornello?” said the lunch counter man.

“... Who?” said the boy flatly, slightly irritated and exasperated.

“Founder Cornello! Messenger of Leto, the sun god!” said the lunch counter man, almost scolding.

Others at the lunch counter began chiming in eagerly:

“The founder of Letoism, the one with the ‘power of miracles’. He’s this really wonderful man who came into this city a couple of years ago and showed us the way of God!”

“It’s incredible!”

“Definitely the power of God!”

The boy had his chin on the counter, looking bored and annoyed.

“... You ain’t listening, kid,” the lunch counter man realized flatly, starting to become angry.

“Nope,” said the teenage boy with crippling bluntness, apparently uncaring as to whether he upset anybody. “I’m not interested in religion.” He stood, taking out the straw and sighing matter of factly, apparently now fully able to stand. “I’m stuffed. Let’s beat it,” he said to the suit of armor.

“Yep,” said the suit of armor. He stood and - BAM. His helmet hit the roof of the lunch counter. The old man screamed and the suit of armor gave a noise of uneasy surprise as the lunch counter’s radio fell off and smashed on the ground into at least ten pieces. Everyone at the lunch counter was annoyed now - their only radio was broken.

“Hey! Don’t cause any problems here!” the old man yelled. “It’s all because you’re walking around in a suit like that!”

“Sorry, sorry. We’ll fix it right up,” said the teenage boy, smiling sheepishly and holding out a pacifying hand. Meanwhile, his companion had knelt down to the broken radio on the ground.

“‘Fix’ how…?” said the old man, rubbing a hand against his head, frankly bewildered.

“Just watch,” said the boy positively, confident. His suit of armor companion was now drawing a circle around the broken radio on the ground. In a few seconds, the circle was completed - the same complex scientific circle as in the beginning scene, but on a much smaller scale.

“Right! Okay, here I go!” said the suit of armor in determination, standing and crossing his hands over each other above the circle. The teenage boy had braced himself expectantly. The lunch counter patrons just looked confused.

Suddenly, a wave of electrical energy exploded out from the circle. Everyone else yelled out in confusion, but the teenage boy had braced himself and stood steady against the energy. The old man made a noise of amazement in the electrical surge’s aftermath…

The radio was totally fixed, and a second later began playing the religious broadcast again. 

“How’s this?” said the boy, smiling slightly and pointing at the radio, his other hand in his pocket.

“... I’m totally stunned,” the old man admitted, gaping. “You can use the ‘power of miracles’?!”

“Say what?” said the boy in exasperation, blanching at the very idea. 

“We’re alchemists,” said the suit of armor, hands on hips.

“Just call us the Elric brothers,” said the teenage boy, arms crossed, smirking. “We’re sort of famous.”

The lunch counter patrons immediately reacted:

“The Elric brothers?!”

“I’ve heard of them before!”

“The older one is one of the state alchemists… The ‘Fullmetal Alchemist,’ Edward Elric!”

The teenage boy began grinning proudly, arms still crossed. “Yes!” he said under his breath.

But then everyone crowded around the much taller and more intimidating suit of armor instead. The teenage boy just stood there, grin frozen in surprise.

“So you’re that rumored genius alchemist!” someone said to the suit of armor admiringly.

“I get it! Since you’re wearing this armor, you’re also called ‘Fullmetal’!” said another.

Someone else was asking for the suit of armor’s autograph.

And then rage slowly overtook the teenage boy’s expressive face.

“Um, I’m not him,” the suit of armor admitted, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

And everyone slowly turned around to the oddly dressed teenage boy - who, it must be admitted, was short for his age and rather unimpressive beside his companion.

“Huh?”

“The shorty over there?”

Everyone was clearly bewildered.

And the teenage boy exploded. He began throwing plates and condiments everywhere in a great fit of rage, alarming all offenders around him. “WHO’S THE SUPER SMALL SPECK?!”

“NOBODY SAID THAT!”

“I’m the little brother, Alphonse Elric.” The suit of armor pointed at himself. Alphonse was fifteen, a year younger.

The teenage boy, still furious, pointed at himself and growled out with a vicious, threatening grin, “I’m the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric!”

Everyone was still a little overwhelmed by the brief fit of rage. “Ex… Excuse us…”

Edward’s rank was not specified. Rankings and military positionings seemed to work somewhat differently among state alchemists, with all state alchemists being entitled to a certain rank “equivalent” to that of a normal military rank. State alchemist “normal military rankings” rarely seemed to be mentioned in the way other military members’ were, except for in special insistent cases. State alchemists were usually simply titles and legends. 

The rules about fraternization laws also seemed unclear at first glance regarding state alchemists. Or even regarding military personnel in general. Even what was mentioned mostly seemed to revolve around personal relationships and not issues of rank and company, and many military anime from Japan had no frat laws at all. Fraternization on the law level and not on the personal relationship level… was vague and essentially left to the reader’s imagination. (Probably purposeful coming from a manga in which no one has a set birthday because the author didn’t want to be hampered with tying a character to a zodiac sign.)

A slim girl in a long summer dress with long dark hair and pinkish-purple bangs ran up to the lunch counter - pretty, around teenage age. “Hello! It’s a little lively today.”

Edward looked around, still in a bad mood, as did everyone else.

“Oh, hello, Rose,” said the old man running the counter. “Going to Church again?”

“Yes, I need to make some offerings.” She held out some bills at the counter. “Same stuff as usual. Oh.” She looked around, smiling pleasantly. “I haven’t met you before.” She was looking at the Elric brothers.

Edward had suddenly and mysteriously calmed down and was now blinking in wide-eyed, uncertain surprise.

“He said he’s an alchemist,” said the old man as he filled Rose’s bag with grocery supplies. “Seems like he’s looking for something.”

“I hope you find what you’re looking for!” She beamed as she took back her bag of groceries. “May Leto protect you!” she said sweetly.

They all watched her leave again, her figure disappearing into the distance, her back to them.

“Rose has become a lot more energetic. It’s all thanks to the founder,” someone commented.

“Huh?” said Edward, puzzled and curious.

“That girl, she ain’t got no relatives,” said the old man, “but on top of that, her boyfriend died in an accident last year…”

“Yeah, you’d think she’d be sad, but she didn’t look so down,” said one lunch counter patron. He smiled. “What saved her were the teachings of Cornello, the messenger of the sun god Leto!”

Another patron grinned. “He who gives everlasting life to the living and rebirth to the dead. ‘The power of miracles’ proves that. Mister, you should take a look too! That’s definitely the power of God!”

“‘Rebirth to the dead,’ huh?” Edward mused, tough face and faux casual, looking away and scowling. “This smells fishy.”

“Have faith!” the radio broadcast announced. “Thy wishes shall be answered.”

-

“All children have the blessing of the light,” a big old bald man in priest’s robes, Cornello, finished into a microphone from a stories-up office desk somewhere else in the town. He switched the microphone off and closed the holy book he’d been reading from.

“Wonderful job, founder,” said another man in priest’s robes from off to the side, smiling.

“Founder, we are grateful for your precious words today as well,” said yet another.

“Founder!”

Rose came into the office, bearing gifts apparently personally, offerings we don’t see onscreen. 

“Ah, Rose.” Cornello came over to her, smiling. “As good as always. Wonderful job!”

“No, it’s only the usual,” said Rose modestly, smiling back. “And…” She twisted her hands around each other, bangled wrists jangling. “If it happens… Someday…”

Cornello looked at her, smiling. “I understand quite well what you’re trying to say,” he admitted. “After all, God has been observing your good conduct.”

Rose brightened eagerly. “Then -!”

But Cornello had put his big, thick hands on her shoulders, revealing a red pendant ring on one of them. “But Rose, it is not time for that yet. Do you understand?” Cornello never stopped smiling kindly - it seemed to be his constant expression. “Yes?”

“That’s… That’s… right…” Rose admitted, looking down, obviously disappointed but forcing herself for more patience, a whole year’s worth of patience already behind her. “Not yet…”

“Good. You’re a good child, Rose,” said Cornello, his smiling widening almost eerily.

-

Rose walked into the Church, pews facing a massive statue of the Sun God Leto and an altar. Edward and Alphonse Elric were already standing there near the altar, waiting for her.

“Oh? Didn’t I meet you earlier…?” said Rose curiously, pausing. “Do you want to learn about Letoism?” she asked brightly.

Edward looked away, smirking, seeming amused by something undefinable. “Sorry,” he said, “but I’m an atheist.”

“That’s not good,” said Rose, smiling and obviously taking on a holy tone. “By believing in God, you’ll live with daily gratitude and hope… Isn’t that wonderful?!

“If you have faith, you’ll definitely get bigger!” she added passionately, obviously determined to make it her new Letoist duty to ‘fix’ Edward’s height - possibly because she’d already seen it bothered him so much.

“What?! You little…!” Edward started toward her, furious but not to the same extent as earlier. Alphonse held Edward back, and Edward let him.

“Wait, wait. She didn’t mean it like that,” said Alphonse patiently.

Edward sighed and sat back skeptically against a frontal pew. “... Jeez, how can you believe in something like that? Pray to God and the dead will come back… huh?”

“Yes.” Rose closed her eyes calmly and resolutely. “Without a doubt!”

Edward paused - and then took out a tiny little pocket book he obviously carried in his jacket. He started reading off a scientific list inside the book:

“35 liters of water, 25 kilograms of carbon, 4 liters of ammonia, 1.5 kilograms of lime, 800 grams of phosphorus, 250 grams of salt, 100 grams of saltpeter, 80 grams of sulfur, 7.5 kilograms of fluorine, 5 grams of iron, 3 grams of silicon, and a little bit of fifteen other elements.”

Rose was obviously bewildered by the long and scientific list. “... Huh?” It was, she plainly thought, a weird response to her belief.

“These would be the calculated components that make up the body of a single adult,” said Edward, still frowning seriously at the book. “We already know that much with modern science, but the reality is that no successful human transmutation has ever been reported. There’s not enough of something… For hundreds of years, scientists have been researching and researching, but they still haven’t been able to grasp it.”

He closed the book.

“So, you could say it’s a wasted effort, but I think it’s a lot more useful than just praying and waiting. 

“Oh, right, and the ingredients for these parts? You can pick all of that up at a marketplace even with the pocket money of a little kid. It’s really cheap to make a human being.”

“A person isn’t a thing!” said Rose indignantly. “You’re being disrespectful to the Creator! You’ll get the wrath of Heaven!”

Edward laughed, long and hard, right in her face.

“Alchemists are scientists, so we can’t believe in vague things like ‘Creator’ and ‘God’,” he sneered. “We explain the fundamentals of the creation of everything in the world and pursue the truth.” He was obviously deeply admiring of his own chosen study and profession. “It’s ironic that as scientists that don’t believe in God, we’re the ones who are closest to God.”

He was looking up thoughtfully at the Leto statue.

“That’s arrogant,” said Rose tightly, glaring. “You think of yourself as God’s equal?”

“Oh, right. I’ve heard of this legend before,” said Edward, smirking, as if this were exactly what Rose had been intending. Alphonse’s helmeted head lowered, silent. “There was once a hero who flew too close to the sun. His wings of wax fell apart, and he plummeted to the Earth.”

Rose stared at them, confused. She realized they meant something by this, but she didn’t know what - the conversation had just gotten completely out of her depth.

-

Cornello stood on an outdoor stage above a cheering crowd of locals, his kindly smile still constantly in place. He had a rose in his hand. He put his hands together, there was a crackle of electricity between his palms, and out came a much bigger sunflower. The people of the town cheered.

Alphonse and Edward were standing in the crowds, Edward on top of his traveling trunk to see above the heads of the cheering masses.

“... What do you think?” Alphonse asked his older brother. “The transformational reaction is normal alchemy, right?”

“Yep…” said Edward, hand shading his eyes to see closer in the bright sunlight from above. “But the law…”

Rose saw them through the crowds nearby, brightened and hurried over. “So the two of you came. How is it? No doubt about it. This is the power of miracles,” she said eagerly. “After all, Lord Cornello is the son of the sun god.”

“Nope, definitely alchemy. Cornello’s a fake,” said Edward bluntly and flatly, yet again either not noticing or not caring what kind of reaction he got. He had his chin to his hand, gazing straight at Cornello, not even looking at Rose as he declared her prophet a phony.

Rose was silent with fury.

“But that’s against the law,” Alphonse pointed out, pointing at the spectacle up onstage away from them.

“Hmm… That’s right,” Edward admitted, rubbing his head sheepishly.

“Law?” Rose asked, puzzled.

“From an average person’s viewpoint,” said Alphonse seriously, “alchemy is a very handy skill that can make anything, without any limit. But the truth is that there’s a rule to this.

“To put it roughly, there’s the law of the conservation of mass and the law of providence. Among us practitioners, there are people who use the four elements and the three principles, but…”

Alphonse seemed to be trying to explain an essential law, and then some alchemists who used extra laws on top of that. But he was explaining it in a highly technical way that Rose was clearly not understanding - and neither was the viewer. Alphonse, the quieter and politer one, also seemed to be the more serious and technical one. He was so immersed in alchemy he had trouble explaining it to an outsider - not really any less immersed in some ways than Edward.

“Um… Okay.” Alphonse decided to try to go even simpler. “It’s taking an object with one element, and changing it into an object containing the same element. 

“An object with the properties of water can only be transmuted into an object with watery attributes.”

“In short,” said Edward, arms crossed, “the basis to alchemy is ‘exact trade’! If you want to make something, you need something of the equivalent cost.

“But he,” indicating a smiling Cornello up onstage, “ignored that law and was able to transmute.”

A smaller rose had turned into a bigger sunflower.

“Make some sense!” Rose demanded heatedly. “Do you two believe in the power of miracles or not?!”

“Brother, maybe it’s…?” Alphonse began tentatively.

“Yeah, maybe it is,” Edward admitted. His sharp golden eyes roved around - and narrowed at the sight of the red amulet stone in Cornello’s massive ring on one of his thick fingered hands. “Bingo!”

He whirled around and gave his best smile to Rose.

“Miss, I’m interested in this religion!” he declared cheerfully. “I want to talk to this founder, so could you give me some information?”

Gullible Rose had her hands clasped, delighted. “Oh, you’ve finally become a believer!”

-

The belltower rang inside the multi-storied Church of Leto. Upstairs in Cornello’s office, one of his priest robed officials opened the door - one of his main applauders from his broadcast earlier, the one who had spoken first, a square-chinned man with a black beard. 

“Founder, there is someone requesting an interview,” he announced. “A little boy and an armored man that call themselves the Elric brothers…”

Now the rest of Cornello’s office revealed itself, from floor length curtains and windows to luxurious carpeting, an intricately carved fireplace, tapestries, and an entire tea-table set up near the fireplace complete with tea at the moment. Cornello was sitting having tea.

This probably was meant to explain to the viewers just where these “personal” offerings like Rose’s frequent offerings went to.

“What?” Cornello scowled, irritated, freer around one of his most trusted. “I’m busy. Tell them to go home.”

Then he paused in realization.

“Wait, did you say the Elric brothers? Edward Elric?!”

“Yes, I’m sure that was the name of the boy...” said Cornello’s priest. “Do you know him?”

Cornello was now sweating, placing his forehead against his folded hands. “Oooh, this is extremely bad! He’s the ‘Fullmetal Alchemist,’ Edward Elric!”

The priest reacted in visible disbelief and anger. “Wha…! You mean that pipsqueak brat?!” He made a gesture referring to Edward’s small stature. “This is a joke, right?!”

“Idiot!” said Cornello, putting fingers to his nose. “Age is irrelevant to being an alchemist!

“I’ve heard that when he was 12, he obtained the license for being one of the state alchemists, but… I see… He really is that rumored brat.”

Cornello’s hands were now folded in front of him; he was becoming calmer, thinking.

“Why is a state alchemist here?! Could it be that he knows about our plan?!” the priest asked suspiciously, leaning in close, his teeth gritted.

“It seems that the dogs of the military have excellent noses,” said Cornello uneasily.

“You want me to send him away?” the priest asked.

“No, doing that would be too suspicious,” said Cornello. “He might return if we turn him away. 

“... They never came here.” Cornello looked sideways and gave his assistant a sly smirk. “... How does that sound?”

For a moment, the priest looked surprised and dismayed. Then he smirked. “As long as God is content…”

Just as this man was in on Cornello’s plan, he plainly still believed in the power of miracles and the Church of Letoism - a possible reason for his accepting fanaticism.

-

The priest came out to greet Edward, Alphonse, and Rose. They were bowed through double doors by assistants into a kind of underground basement chamber beneath the main Church. “Now please enter,” said the priest politely.

Edward, Alphonse, and Rose followed into the empty chamber behind him.

“The founder is a very busy person,” said the priest, still walking ahead, “and thus does not have much free time, but you sirs are in good luck.”

The doors closed behind them.

“Sorry, I don’t plan on talking to him for too long,” said Edward brightly, still in his faux helpful guise.

But Alphonse and Rose had turned in surprise at the doors suddenly closing.

“Yes. We’ll end this quite soon,” said the priest, smirking and stopping. Everyone else stopped, too.

The priest reached into an inside pocket of his robes, whirled around, pulled out a handgun, and stuck it right through one of the eyeholes in Alphonse’s helmet.

“Just like this!”

The gun went off.

Alphonse’s helmet was blasted away, right off the suit of armor, seeming to take his head and neck with it. Rose screamed and Edward’s eyes widened in horror as the armored body fell one way and the armored head fell somewhere else.

Edward moved to run forward, and was stopped by the pikes of the followers standing beside the door, the two pinning him in on either side. Edward paused, a silent snarl coming over his face.

“Brother! What is the meaning of this?!” Rose demanded of the priest, distraught.

“Rose, these men are heretics that were going to entrap the founder,” said the priest, still holding the gun. “They’re demons!”

“No!” said Rose. “If that’s why, the founder surely wouldn’t have allowed th -...”

“The founder has allowed this,” said the priest, smirking. “The words of the founder are the words of God… This is the will of God!”

Rose looked torn as the priest pointed the gun at Edward’s head. Edward just stared at the gun, his face hard and his golden eyes gleaming.

“Oh? That’s a mean God.”

Alphonse’s headless suit of armor had suddenly stood up, a voice emanating from somewhere inside, and put his glove on the hand holding the gun. He leaned down, and even the priest was surprised and horrified.

The moving, talking suit of armor was empty. There was nothing inside.

“Wha -?!” the priest began, stunned and terrified.

Edward took the pause of surprise this had created to catch his assailants off guard. He grabbed the pole of one pike and used it to shove one of Cornello’s henchmen away, then he did a hand to hand move to slam the other to the ground using the chest. In almost the same move, Alphonse’s metal glove punched the priest in the face, breaking several teeth.

The remaining conscious henchmen tried to run away, screaming - Edward picked up Alphonse’s equally empty helmet and threw it right at the guy, hitting him in the skull and knocking him unconscious.

“Strike!” Edward held up a thumbs up in a joking umpire move, mischievous.

“My head!” Alphonse called, sounding extremely annoyed.

Rose was screaming, shaking, stuttering and staring in horror at the headless suit of armor. She pointed at Alphonse. “What’s going on…?!” she finally managed to gasp out.

Alphonse pointed at his empty armored body, at the opening showing his own physical nonexistence. Edward reached up and gave a couple of fond thuds of the fist against the suit of armor’s chest plate, frowning at Rose seriously.

“It’s always…” Edward began.

“... Like this,” Alphonse finished.

Rose put her hands to her mouth, terrified. “Th… There’s nothing inside… It’s hollow…?!”

“Oh, this.” Alphonse calmly reached over and put his helmeted head back on. “This is someone with the sin of trespassing into God’s forbidden domain. Just like me, and my brother too.”

Edward’s back was now to them. He remained straight-shouldered and silent.

“Edward… too?” Rose sounded confused, but also concerned.

“Okay, let’s stop this topic.” Edward put a hand to his head in exasperation, avoiding Rose’s unspoken question, still not looking at her and Alphonse. “You saw God’s true nature.” He waved to the unconscious henchmen. “Didn’t you?”

“No! There has to be some mistake!” said Rose, dismayed.

“Geez.” Edward was irritated, even angry, a flat glare on his face as he looked away in exasperation. “This lady’s already seen this much, and she still believes in that fraud of a founder.

“Rose.” He turned to her, frowning seriously, hands in his pockets, Alphonse standing straight behind him. “Do you have the guts to see the truth?”

-

Edward and Alphonse were standing outside a new pair of double doors.

“So this is the founder’s room that Rose told us about?” Edward said. “Oh well…” he added in a sigh, as if disappointed by Rose not coming.

Suddenly, one door creaked open and the other followed. The doors slowly opened into a darkened chamber of their own accord, another underground basement, shadowy and unseeable.

“Hmm…” Edward smirked. “You’re supposed to say ‘welcome’.”

They walked inside. Edward noticed the doors close softly of their own accord behind him.

“Welcome to our holy church.” Cornello was standing there on a sweeping staircase toward the upper floors within the chamber, a tapestry hanging nearby. “Did you come to learn our teachings?” The same old kindly smile.

“Yeah, I want you to tell us a bunch,” Edward smirked cynically. “Like this rule about tricking your believers with cheap alchemy!”

“... Hmm, I wonder what you might be speaking of…” Cornello smiled. “Grouping my ‘power of miracles’ with alchemy would pose a bit of a problem. If you saw it once, you would understand…”

Now he was trying to reason with the brothers.

“I’ve already seen it,” Edward interrupted abruptly. “The thing I don’t get at all is the thing about how you were able to transmute something while ignoring the laws.”

“That’s why I said it wasn’t alchemy…” Cornello scratched his head, puzzled, with the hand carrying the ring finger.

“I thought so. The ‘Philosopher’s Stone’.” Edward grinned confidently, a slow, sly smirk. “You’re using that, aren’t you?”

Cornello paused, ring finger still scratching his head.

“It’s that ring, isn’t it?” Edward’s eyes narrowed, sharp and smug, at the ring finger.

A pause. Cornello clutched his cane tighter.

“I expected no less from a state alchemist. It is exactly as you said. You are correct!”

Cornello raised his ring hand, and now his face was dark, dour. Not a trace of smile was left.

“This is a mysterious power amplifier that was said to be found only in legends… If we alchemists use this, we can perform tasks of great magnitude with little cost!”

“... I’ve been looking for that!” Edward growled out, a cruel and slightly vicious grin taking over his face.

“Hmph! Why do your eyes look like they want it?!” Cornello mused, smirking. “What would you wish for by using this stone? Money? Fame?”

“You too,” Edward pointed out. “You’ve made a religion through fraud. What do you want? If it’s money, you can use this stone as much as you’d want.”

“It isn’t money,” said Cornello. “No, I want money, but, even if I remain silent, it will enter my wallet in the form of donations from my believers, you see. On the other hand,” he smirked, hand to his chin, “I need obedient believers who would be happy to throw their lives away for me.

“It’s wonderful! The greatest army in the world!” He gave a wide, insane grin. “One which doesn’t fear death! I’ve steadily advanced my preparations! Behold! After several years, this country will be mine!”

He gave an evil cackle.

“Nope, don’t care,” said Edward flatly, bored and disinterested.

“What?!” Cornello sputtered, his entire intimidating aura thrown off. “Don’t just say a couple of words about my plans like ‘don’t care’! You… aren’t you from one of the surrounding countries… no, in the military?!”

He seemed to have gotten lost in his own diatribe.

“Nah. I guess you could say that,” said Edward casually, scratching at his head. “Country and army, dunno much about stuff like that.

“I’ll get straight to the point! Gimme the Philosopher’s Stone!” He pointed firmly. “Do that and I won’t say anything about your fraudulence to the people in this city.”

“Ha! You’re trying to bargain with me… My believers won’t believe a word from the likes of you!” Cornello crowed. Edward frowned seriously. “I am loved by them! They are my faithful servants! No matter how many times you yell, they won’t listen! That’s right! Because these stupid believers have been fooled by me!”

Edward smiled mischievously and started clapping sarcastically. “Well, I didn’t expect any less from the founder! Thank you for letting us hear such a splendid speech. Yeah, maybe the believers won’t listen to anything we’d say. But!” Edward smirked and pointed behind him with his thumb. “How about the stuff she’d say?”

Alphonse silently opened up his chest plate to reveal Rose curled up inside his suit of armor. She looked horrified, terrified, and disturbed.

Cornello was confused and alarmed. “Rose?!” he yelled. “What is the…”

“Founder! Is what you just said true?!” Rose leaned forward out of the suit of armor so quickly Alphonse moved and she surprised him a little. “Have you tricked us?!” Rose demanded of Cornello. “The power of miracles, God’s power… You weren’t going to grant me my wish?!

“You weren’t going to bring him back?!”

There were distraught tears welling up in her violet eyes.

Cornello frowned, nervous. Then he smirked, getting an idea that put him on edge.

“Hm… perhaps being the messenger of God was a lie… But with this stone, as well as the transmutation of living organisms that countless alchemists have failed at… There is the possibility that your lover can be resurrected!” Cornello declared.

Rose stared, horrified and torn.

“Rose, don’t listen!” Alphonse insisted, rarely actually speaking up.

Cornello held out a hand. “Be a good child and come here.”

“If you go, you won’t be able to come back,” Edward growled in warning, giving her a sideways glare.

“What’s wrong?” Cornello smiled, more confident at Rose’s continued silence. “You’re one of us.”

“Rose!” Alphonse warned sharply.

“Am I not the only one who can grant your wish?” Cornello demanded, playing on Rose’s longing for her dead boyfriend. “Remember your beloved! Well!” He grinned viciously.

Rose was shaking, trembling, clutching at herself in horror… 

Then she walked away from the Elric brothers and toward Cornello. Her head was bowed. “I’m sorry, you two,” she said quietly, her back to them.

Alphonse stared after her silently. Edward ran a hand through his hair and sighed, tough face on but seemingly disappointed.

“But this is the only thing I can…” Rose turned back to them, disturbed. “This is the only thing I can rely on,” she admitted.

“Good child… really…” Cornello gave a cruel smile, his eyes narrowed.

Cornello reached for a lever hidden in the wall beside him.

“Now, I will purge these heretics that threaten the future of my religion with haste,” he promised. He pulled the lever.

Edward looked around, hands casually in his pockets but sharp and alarmed - and out of a nearby sliding wall came a chimera, a lion with a lizard backside, crawling out of the hidden opening. It growled and made to spring at the Elrics.

“The Philosopher’s Stone is a really impressive thing,” said Cornello. “It can make things like this. Is this the first time you’ve seen a chimera? Hm?” He smirked, eyeing Edward sideways.

Edward and Alphonse watched the circling, hunched chimera, faux casual, expressions hard.

“It’s a little hard to fight unarmed,” said Edward flatly, bored, clapping his hands together once, “so…” Cornello paused in surprise as Edward put his spread palms to the ground, there was a flash of alchemical electricity - and in an explosion that Rose had to brace herself against, from out of the ground and into Edward’s slowly standing hand came a sharpened spear. It had an intricate dragon symbol carved into it.

“Why you!” Cornello growled, irritated and maybe a little nervous from the top of the stairwell. “To transmute a weapon from the pavement without an alchemical circle… I see that state alchemist isn’t just a fancy name! But that won’t be enough!”

The chimera charged, and snapped through the spear in a flash of claws. Edward clutched his left leg instinctively in surprise as it was slashed by the claws.

Cornello cackled. “How is that?! How do claws that can cut through iron feel?!”

“Edward!” Rose called from further back on the bottom floor, obviously distraught.

“... What was that?!” Edward looked up and grinned mischievously. 

Cornello gasped just as the chimera’s claws snapped off from the attack and Edward kicked the chimera in the stomach and away with the supposedly injured left leg.

“Sorry, but it’s made a bit special,” Edward smirked, foot still raised in a hand to hand kick.

“What happened?!” Cornello called, stunned. “If the claws won’t work, bite him!”

The chimera charged forward, growling, bit down on Edward’s defensively raised right arm… and paused, chewing, but wide-eyed, growling, and whining.

“What’s wrong, you stupid cat?” said Edward, deadly. “Get a real good taste.” Then he kicked the chimera in the jaw in another hand to hand move, its head snapping back upward and away in a rush of blood and broken teeth.

“Rose, take a good look,” said Edward. His left leg through the shreds of cloth was mechanical metal, a synthetic advanced limb shaped to look like a young man’s. His right arm? Exactly the same, metallic gears and all. This was why he wore a long-sleeved cloak, long pants, gloves; he was self conscious of synthetic limbs. “This is human transmutation - the bodies of sinners that have breached God’s domain!”

He was still trying to help her. But Rose had her hands over her mouth. Even Cornello was horrified. Edward and Alphonse were deadly serious.

“... Artificial limbs of steel,” said Edward, frowning solemnly, “automail…”

And he ripped off the tattered remnants of his cloak. The artificial arm went right to the edges of his chest and back, completely enveloping his shoulder. He was lithely muscular, and scars littered the connecting points of his automail. The chimera lay defeated behind him.

He turned, gritted his teeth, and made a ‘come at me’ motion to Cornello.

“Ah, I see… the Fullmetal Alchemist!” Cornello realized. It was because of Edward’s artificial limbs. After the first scene - a failed attempt at bringing a human to life as a child - he’d had to have the limbs synthetically installed in. Alphonse had lost his body completely.

That was why they were trying to help Rose. For them, this was personal.

“Come and get some, you third rate,” Edward growled at Cornello. “I’ll show you what’s different between the two of us!”


	2. The Price of a Life

Chapter Two: The Price of a Life

“... I see. I see…” Cornello was recovering, smiling, but he still looked uneasy. Edward stood there solemnly, frowning and silent. “It was quite a mystery as to why the brat was called ‘Fullmetal,’ but… So this is why…

“Rose,” he added to Rose, who was staring at the artificial limbs, stunned and horrified, “these men, they have done something that is absolutely forbidden to alchemists: They have performed human transmutation… They’ve committed the greatest crime!”

Cornello was grinning vindictively. Frowning seriously, fully revealed, Edward threw the remains of his cloak away. Both he and Alphonse in the suit of armor stood seriously, straight.

Rose was remembering Edward’s words from the Church: “There was once a hero who flew too close to the sun. His wings of wax fell apart and he plummeted to the Earth…” She stared in silent horror.

-

In flashback, a child Edward was throwing books and papers everywhere in his excitement, running across the study to where Alphonse was sitting near a high shelf of books and a step ladder. “Al! Al! Alphonse!”

“What’s the matter, Brother?” Al looked up curiously from a book. He had a head of straw blond hair, a softer face than Edward’s sharp one, and grey eyes.

“This is it!” Edward spread a paper diagram wide across the desk, grinning. His own creation. “It’ll work with this theory!”

“Wait, you mean…” said Al incredulously, staring over his shoulder.

“Yeah!” said Edward. “We can bring Mom back!” 

A transmutation circle was shown, massive, drawn onto the study floor. Another shot was shown of the two young boys sharing books and papers, talking excitedly, their eyes alit. Around them was a study full of books, scrolls, papers, bottles, candles, skulls… and suits of armor. Including the suit of armor Al currently resided in.

Al began talking to us from current time:

We were positive that we could create life.

She was kind… she really was a kind mother. All we wanted to do was to see our mother’s smile, just one more time. Even if that alchemy was forbidden, we learned alchemy just to be able to do that one thing…

The transmutation was a failure.

Next a scene was shown of great black waves of electric power seeping through both boys, wrapping itself around them. Both of the boys were screaming, wide-eyed and terrified. Al’s body slowly disintegrated, lifting him up into the air. Edward stared down at his own left leg in horror as it disappeared below the knee, his shoe falling uselessly to the ground.

Brother lost his left leg in the transmutation. I lost my entire body. Then I lost consciousness… When I opened my eyes again, I saw this armored body and, amidst a sea of blood…

Edward was lying there limply amid his own blood against the far study wall, stumps bleeding openly - his right arm was gone from the shoulder, his left leg from the knee.

Alphonse hurried over and knelt down beside him.

Edward chuckled, perspiring heavily and clutching at what remained of his right shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said in a kind of hysterical despair. “I could only transmute your soul with my right arm.”

“Why did you have to push yourself...?!” Al begged emotionally, lost, putting his now massive hand on Edward’s back.

-

In real time, Al was still telling the story to Rose - still talking.

“While Brother was suffering from the loss of his left leg… he traded his right arm to transmute my soul into this armor.” Al placed a hand emotionally over his chest plate.

“Hm…” Edward smirked cynically, the same smirk he’d given at the mention of God in the Church, like something was funny but in a kind of dour black humor way. “This is the mess that happens when two people try to resurrect a single human being. This is what resurrecting a person means, Rose.”

He looked up, golden eyes shining and hard, determined and fierce.

“You got the guts to do it?!” he demanded. “Do you?!”

Rose, who had been listening to the story in silent horror… now paused, looking torn. Their story had gotten to her.

Meanwhile, Cornello laughed harshly from above into the boys’ faces. “Edward Elric! And then you joined the state alchemists! Don’t make me laugh!”

Cornello was pointing out the irony - someone who had broken the ultimate alchemical law had then gone on to hide himself in the military, in order to aid his search for the Philosopher’s Stone.

“Shut up! Without that Stone, you can’t do anything, you ultra third rate!” Edward snapped. This comment seemed to have gotten to him.

“I see, I see. And so, you want the Philosopher’s Stone?” Cornello guessed. “If you use this, your human transmutation would probably succeed, huh?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Baldy! We just want that Stone to restore our original bodies,” said Edward. He clutched his automail arm, made a fist, and smirked. “What I want most is to be like I was before!”

“Mr Founder, we’ll say it again,” said Al, polite but serious, holding out his hand. “Give us the Stone, while you’re still not hurt.”

Cornello chuckled. “You stupid fools who came too close to God and fell to the Earth… this time, I will have to send you to God myself!” And he transmuted his cane into a machine gun using his ring in a crackle of electricity, pointed the machine gun at the two brothers, and began firing.

Rose curled in on herself defensively as Cornello cackled with laughter from above.

Then he paused, the smoke fading away, frowning in disbelief. Edward had used his alchemy without a circle, and transmuted a stone wall out of the ground in front of them to shield them. The bullet holes had barely made dents in the thick stone.

Edward grinned mischievously, one hand still against the other side of the wall. “Nope, God hates us. Even if we go, he’ll send us back!”

Cornello growled, glaring at the wall and Edward… and so he missed Al sneaking across to snatch up Rose in his massive metal arms until it was already too late. Right as Al picked Rose up, Cornello finally stopped them and growled, “You…”

He started firing the machine gun at them, but Al took the bullets on his back - they bounced off against the metal of his armor - and sprinted back toward Edward with a shrieking Rose safely shielded in his arms.

“Al! We’re getting out of here!” Edward shouted, pointing at the far doors and making a run for it.

“Fools! That exit won’t open unless I command it from here!” Cornello crowed.

But they were now running toward a wall beside the doors. Edward smirked and clapped his hands once. “Oh, really!?” He clapped his hands against the wall and in a crackle of electricity, a new pair of double doors were transmuted. They were dark and intricately, Gothically carved, with a pair of silver ram horns as door handles.

The decoration was not necessary. As with his dragon spear and his complicated black leather and red cloak outfit, Edward Elric would simply die for his aesthetic.

Cornellow screamed in shock and indignation as Edward and Alphonse banged determinedly through the doors, Rose safely in Al’s grasp. “If there ain’t an exit, I’ll make one!” Edward shouted back over his shoulder.

They ran off down the hallway as all the uncertain robed assistants stared after them in disbelief.

Cornello ran to the doors. “What are you doing?! Chase them!” he snapped frantically at his followers. “Those are heretics that are trying to ruin our religion! Get them immediately!”

Everyone grabbed poles and pikes and ran uneasily off after the Elrics, through the maze of underground hallways.

Finally, a group of robed priests had them cornered and paused, pikes in hand, calling their position to everyone else in the passageways. “Hey kids, gonna fight unarmed with the lot of us?” one of them grinned.

“Before you get hurt,” another smirked, reaching out for Rose, “just calm down and give u -...”

Edward beamed and clapped once. The priests paused in confusion… And then Edward gave a vicious, evil grin and transmuted his metal arm into a massive saw, dark and intricate and carved with flame-like insignias. The priests screamed -

And the rest arrived down another hallway just as they saw flying, shrieking priests being thrown down the hall ahead of them.

“They’re very strong. Don’t hold back because he’s a child!” one priest in the second, remaining group called to the others, nervous but determined.

He was then interrupted by Alphonse rounding the corner and kicking him right in the face with a metal foot. He fell over, unconscious with a broken nose, as Alphonse yelled, “Out of the way!”

The Elrics sprinted off scot free to the upper floors. Apparently no one else felt brave enough to try them.

They were just running through the upper floors of the Church of Leto, when they passed by the broadcast room with its massive desk, Cornello’s personal room, and Edward paused. 

“Oh? This room is…?” he asked curiously, pausing wide-eyed.

Rose, who had gone from screaming through the fighting to glaring flatly as she was carried dully through countless floors, now got back to her feet in relief.

“This is the broadcast room,” she said. “The High Priest uses this radio for his sermons…”

Edward gave a mischievous grin and put his hand to his chin, snickering an evil sort of laugh.

He’s thinking about doing something evil, Al realized to himself.

-

Another robed official was walking up to the belltower, checking his pocket watch. Despite many modern scientific and fashion-related advances, the series was supposedly set in an alternate reality of the very early Western 1900’s. So, a blend of old and new - modern, and Western turn of the century or 1920’s. The series’s culture was kept vague throughout the series, a useful way of being able to add in some things and delete other things from their culture on the part of the author.

“What? There’s a ruckus downstairs…” the robed official muttered to himself, closing his pocket watch. He got to the top of the belltower, where the bell ringer was, and yelled, “Hey, what are you doing?! It’s already past time to ring the bell!”

The bell ringer had his hand on the rope but was staring upward, open-mouthed. “The bell is…”

The other paused in confusion.

“The bell is gone,” said the bell ringer, as if he’d been standing there stunned ever since realizing this himself.

The other looked up, and made a noise of equal bewilderment.

Meanwhile, Alphonse had the bell and was walking out of the bottom of the Church several floors below with it, the bell slung over his shoulder. He looked up briefly… and kept walking with impressive composure.

As he set the bell down on the ground a while later, on a high Church walkway overlooking the desert city, Rose was beside him but Edward wasn’t.

“I still can’t believe what you were talking about earlier,” Rose admitted. “You can’t transmute unless you do that much…”

“We said it before. The basis of alchemy is ‘equivalent exchange’ or ‘exact change’,” said Al. “If we want to do something, we have to pay the cost.” Now he was kneeling down, fiddling with some wires and a radio device, hooking it up through the narrow top of the bell to the wide bottom. “Brother is called a ‘genius’, but he paid the cost through ‘effort’, so Brother is like this now.”

Rose smiled uneasily, her eyes sad. “But, because you paid that sacrifice, your mother had to have been…”

Alphonse paused, his head lowered. He seemed more open to talking about what had happened than Edward, so he was honest when he spoke quietly next: “The body couldn’t have been called human.”

We saw a brief memory, of Alphonse the suit of armor with a bleeding Edward in his arms in the study, looking over to the center of the transmutation circle… And the viewer doesn’t get a glimpse into what Alphonse saw, only a long, weirdly bent, splayed pale woman’s arm, long strings of weird black hair, and a puddle of blackish goo and blood echoing out around the form.

Rose looked horrified again.

-

Another flashback.

“This… can’t be happening!” Armored Al put a hand to his head, bending over in emotion. “Brother’s theory should have been perfect!”

The bleeding Edward in his arms in the study managed, “Yeah, the theory wasn’t wrong…” He stared in horror at his bloody remaining hand. “The ones who were wrong were… us…”

-

“We quit working with human transmutation, but Brother wants to return me to my original body,” said Al in the present, drawing a transmutation circle around his new setup. “And I want Brother to go back to the way he was before.

“But, it’s risky as I’ve said… We’ll probably pay for it and lose our lives. But this is the road we’ve chosen.”

He stood and looked her.

“Rose, that’s why you mustn’t be like us,” he said seriously.

-

Edward was sitting there flatly on Cornello’s desk, bored and legs crossed, chin in hand, when Cornello walked into his study and broadcast room.

“You punk! You can’t get away anymore!” Cornello growled, scowling, pointing his now normal cane at Edward, worlds away from the kindly, smiling, wise high priest.

“Oh, you’ve given up?” said Edward, pointedly disinterested. “Isn’t the fact that you lied going to spread to the people soon?”

“Silence!” Cornello spat. “My underlings are still in the Church, and there is no way you can break my control of the information to my stupid believers!”

“Oh, well, I feel sorry for the people who believe in you,” Edward drawled.

“Those believers are just pawns for my wars! Pawns don’t need pity! 

“And, they’ll be satisfied if they died, happily believing they’ll be doing it for God! The difference between alchemy and the power of miracles is that I can mass produce believers and replenish my unending hordes of pawns!

“Did you think you could stop my plans so easily?!” he finished ranting triumphantly.

But Edward had turned from a smirk - to a chuckle - to outright howling with laughter, clutching at his head in disbelief.

“What’s so funny?!” Cornello demanded irritably.

“Because you’re third-rate, Baldy,” Edward grinned, hand still to his forehead in amused disbelief.

“You brat! You’re still saying that!”

“What’s this?!” Edward sang, grinning, holding up the button for the desk’s radio broadcast microphone.

It was switched on. 

Cornello looked down. The microphone? Lying unnoticed on the floor right between him and Edward.

The wire for the radio? Ran all the way outside to the Church walkway and the inside of Alphonse’s massive bell… which had been lifted up and pointed, echoing out, to the masses of the desert city below. Alphonse had transmuted the radio to echo outward from the inside of the bell, using its wider lower section to get the full effect.

“You didn’t!” said Cornello in horror. And then he growled, “YOOOUUU!”

This, too, echoed out to the entire desert city. Countless occupants of the town sat and stood staring, stunned and open-mouthed and totally still, as they listened to what followed. The entire city was silent.

“When?! When did you push that switch…?” Cornello demanded.

“From the beginning,” said Edward sweetly. “All uncut.”

“H-H-How could this…?!” Cornello sputtered. 

And then, back in the office, rage filled him.

“... You brat…” he growled, and transmuted his cane into a machine gun again using the ring. “I’ll kill you!”

“Too late!” Reflexes fast, Edward had already grinned and transmuted his automail arm into a blade. He cut straight through the center of the gun, ruining it, as Cornello cried out in surprise.

Cornello was left holding a useless hunk of metal.

“Told you, didn’t I?” said Edward more seriously and quietly, smirking and getting into a stance with his blade. “We’re different.”

“I… I won’t give up…” Cornello growled out desperately. Then he tried to transmute the gun once again back to its old self with the ring, shouting out and losing his head completely, “As long as I have this stone, I can use the power of miracles as many…!”

Edward flinched back in serious preparation - Cornello cried out, the ring shining with energy over his arm -

And then Cornello’s arm was morphed and transmuted into something almost metal, the bones poking out of his skin as metal pieces and coils - mangled parts of a machine gun.

Cornello screamed out and clutched his arm, falling to his knees in pain. “My… arm…! My arm…!” he yelled desperately.

Edward had stood straight, horrified and confused, his teeth gritted. “Why… how…” he managed, bewildered and disturbed. Cornello was still screaming. Finally, Edward grabbed him by the robe collar, got right up in his face and screamed, “SHUT UP!”

Cornello was so stunned that he did.

“This is only a rebound, right?! Don’t scream ‘gyaa’ about one or two arms!” Edward snapped, decidedly unimpressed with pained screams over losing a limb. “The Stone! Show me the Philosopher’s Stone!”

A confused and fuzzy-headed Cornello lifted up his ring hand…

And it snapped into little useless shards, the shards rolling over and falling into pieces on the floor. 

Cornello and Edward both stared.

“It… broke…” said Edward disbelievingly, his eyes wide. Then he whirled around and began shaking a confused and bewildered Cornello. “What’s going on?! The Philosopher’s Stone is supposed to be ‘perfect,’ so why did it break?!”

“I… I don’t know, I don’t know!” Cornello forced out, begging. “I haven’t heard about this before! Please save me! I’m begging you! I’m sorry! If the Stone’s gone, I can’t do anything! Please save me…!”

“A fake…?” Edward realized, staring straight ahead of himself, stunned. He stood slowly, shaking. “I came all the way here… and I even thought I could restore myself… and it’s a fake…”

And then he sat right down there in despair on the floor and felt rather dramatically sorry for himself.

Cornello saw Edward’s back to him and gave a vicious grin, lifting up his ruined arm. One of its metal parts had a razor-sharp point.

He’s wide open! If this is how it is, I’ll kill that punk with just this!

“Hey, pops,” said Edward suddenly, his back still to Cornello.

Cornello straightened, faux nice. “Yes?!”

But Edward had laid his hand softly down on the office floor… and alchemical electricity crackled beneath his hand. He’d clapped so silently Cornello hadn’t seen it. There was now anger forming from his despair.

“You’ve tricked the people in this town,” said Edward in a deadly voice. “You’ve tried to kill us. But you made us waste all this time, and in the end all I get is a ‘oh, I’m sorry, the Stone was a fake’?”

Cornello paused in surprise. Then the entire Church began rattling, startling and making uneasy even Al and Rose out on the walkway outside. Electricity sparked straight up and down, from ceiling to floor, through the broadcast room. Cornello was gaping.

Then a massive fist began raising itself from the floor of the broadcast room, a fist with an arm attached to it, just the clenched fist big enough to squash Cornello’s whole body. He shouted and stumbled, unsteady on his feet as the floor visibly moved underneath him like an earthquake…

And a massive statue of Leto was made from the floor and walls of the building itself. It smashed through windows, through the Church ceiling, which opened up above Cornello, destroying the entire Church and everything in its path… And it raised itself up straight, massive, behind a furious Edward, who had stood tall with his hand still on the statue.

“STOP SCREWING AROUND!” he yelled at Cornello, losing his head completely. And the statue moved, the stone fist arcing itself straight down at a screaming Cornello. “Eat the hammer of God!” Edward yelled furiously, and then the huge stone fist crashed toward Cornello and straight to the office floor.

Never let it be said Edward Elric was not secretly a drama queen.

But a full pan of the room revealed - the fist had smashed right next to Cornello, not on top of him. Cornello had essentially nearly shit himself and fainted dead away on the ground, ring gone, arm ruined, and fraud exposed.

-

Edward and Alphonse were sitting outside the Church, near the fist and the building ruins.

“It was a fake?” Al confirmed.

“Yeah. Just another dead end. And I finally thought I could restore you…” Edward sighed, more exasperated than anything now that he’d calmed down.

“I’m more worried about you,” said Al. “Automail causes a lot of problems.”

He didn’t elaborate on exactly what this meant. It was possible that automail was not only tough on the body of the user - though it seemed from other examples to be usable for a person’s entire life if they kept fit - but was prone to all the normal synthetic limb problems: rust or creaking if not oiled, cleaned, and used properly; prone to stiffness, pain, and chill in frigid weathers; tough to carry around during hot summers; inconvenient if the limbs temporarily needed to be separated from the ports and put aside.

Similarly, just as he was reluctant to show his automail around people, Edward never seemed to discuss or complain about these problems.

But this comment said a lot for Al. Edward still had a body, but Al was more worried about Edward having to deal with synthetic automail limbs.

“Can’t help it,” Edward sighed matter of factly, getting to his feet. “We’ll look somewhere else.”

“No…” came Rose’s voice. 

Edward looked around in surprise.

Rose was hopeless, staring ahead despairingly, on her hands and knees amid the ruins of her Church. “This has to be a lie…” she murmured, “because… he said he could bring him back…”

“Rose, give it up…” said Edward matter of factly, hands casually in his pockets again, but he seemed sad, concerned.

“... Why does it have to be like this…?” And suddenly Rose was crying. “What am I supposed to do now?!” she shrieked at the Elric brothers, agony in her expression. “How am I supposed to live now?!

“Tell me! Please!” She bowed her head, begging.

The Elric brothers were serious, watching her quietly. Edward looked away, his tough expression firmly in place. He had helped, but that was all he could do, and he knew it. “Think about that on your own,” was all he said. He walked past her, and Alphonse followed him quietly. “Stand up and walk. Move on.

“After all,” he said back over his shoulder, “you have perfect legs to stand on.”

And as the Elric brothers walked away from her town, Rose looked up at the sky in tears from her knees in the setting sun, amid the ruins of the Church of Leto.

-

Another part of the Church was still intact, and an angry, confused mob of people had stormed and gathered outside of it, shouting and throwing things. They were demanding to see Cornello, to understand if what they’d really heard was the truth.

Cornello’s assistants had closed the big double front doors and barred them, but even they looked uneasy.

Cornello stumbled into a basement chamber deep underground the Church, clutching at his ruined arm. “Damnit! A punk like that ruined my plans…” He stormed past the ruins of the chimera, which he didn’t quite process was all bones and ribs - its insides had been eaten by something. Cornello stood there, thinking, in the darkness of the blackened chamber. “This isn’t a joke. I’ve invested too much for this to just…”

But Cornello paused, his eyes widening. Because a voice came out of the darkness, and he suddenly realized he wasn’t alone at all.

“Goodness. We’ve finally managed to get this far, but now it’s all gone,” said the sly, lazy voice.

A light came on and revealed was a sensual, curvy woman with long dark hair and a sultry voice. She wore black dress, heels, and elbow length gloves. She was leaning against a massive, pudgy thing that looked something like a man and something like a boy. It had tiny, inhuman eyes and a wide, blank, empty grin. It was sitting cross-legged on the floor, eating one of the chimera’s legs raw.

The woman spoke again. “It’s been a long time since I came here. What’s all the fuss? What a troublesome founder.” She looked mildly irritated, bored.

“Y… You! What is the meaning of this?!” Cornello demanded. “The Philosopher’s Stone you gave me broke! You expected me to use a defective object!?”

“No, even if it was someone like you, no way we would have given the real one to you,” said the woman lazily.

“Didn’t you tell me that if I used this stone, I could take over the country?!” Cornello demanded.

“Oh, did I say something like that? It was nice to see a little mayhem happening in this place. And what else? Did you really think it was possible for a third-rate like you to become a king?” She laughed cruelly. “You really are deluded!”

Cornello’s teeth gritted, but he was shaking from fear.

“Hey, Lust. That old man. Can I eat him?” the massive boy-man asked brightly, pointing.

“You can’t, Gluttony.” The woman smirked. “If you eat that, you’ll hurt your tummy. If you ate a third-rate, no… a fourth-rate loser like him,” she added quietly.

Cornello snapped, enraged, remembering Edward’s taunting. “I am always made a fool of!” he screamed, rushing forward -

Lust put a hand to her head in exasperation, then frowned seriously and threw her hand outward. Her gloved fingers turned inhumanly into long, sharp points, and one of them went right through Cornello’s head and brain.

The last thing he saw was her gleaming lipstick smile. “We are finished with you,” she said calmly.

Then she pulled out her long claw, turned and walked away matter of factly, and he slumped over dead.

Her claws retracted back into fingers and she sighed in a mock-weary sort of way. “Oh, well. We came so far but now we have to start from scratch. Father is going to be mad. What should we use next…?”

Gluttony had picked up Cornello’s body with bright curiosity, opened his drooling mouth with the alchemy symbol carved onto his tongue… And then there was a crunch.

“Hey,” came Lust’s voice, “I told you, you can’t eat him.”


	3. The Coal Mine Town, Part One

Chapter Three: The Coal Mine Town, Part One

The train zoomed down the tracks. Edward and Al were on board… but they were about the only ones. The train was empty.

Al looked around, as did Edward holding their map, who looked uncomfortable.

“... No one’s on board,” Al finally commented, stating the obvious.

“I heard rumors, but I didn’t think it would be this bad…” Edward admitted uncertainly. Then he calmed, frowning in determination. “That’s mainly because there’s nothing to see here,” he said decidedly, looking away out the window at the nothingness around them. “‘The Town At The End Of The East.’ The Youswell Coal Mine.”

Beyond vast, barren outcrops of rock and nothingness, the great hulking black shape of a town loomed ahead of the train tracks. Smoke billowed out of several smokestacks and chimneys over the great dark shapes of the coal mining town.

-

The brothers got off the train platform, Edward holding his trunk, and the town around them seemed empty. A single tired looking man sat beside a coal mining cart and some tracks. A stray dog ran nearby.

Nobody was around.

“This is a little…” Edward looked around, uncertain and uneasy again. “I thought a coal mine would be a little livelier, but…”

“Everybody’s really tired…” Al observed, looking around seriously himself.

Suddenly, a labor boy came by carrying a long strip of plywood over his shoulder. He accidentally hit Edward in the head with it on the way by, and a surprised Edward fell over, trunk and all. “Whoops, sorry,” the labor boy called.

Edward clutched at the back of his head from the ground, irate, and growled, “That hurts, you little…”

“Oh!” The boy brightened, seeing him, and leaned forward eagerly. “What? Tourist?”

“Ah, no. Hold on…” said Edward uneasily, leaning backwards reflexively.

“Where’d you come from? Want food? Decided where you’re staying?” the boy asked eagerly. Then he turned around without waiting for a response and yelled excitedly, “Dad! Customers!”

Edward stood, irritated, and yelled, “Listen to what other people are saying!”

A man in a hard hat was carrying his own plywood up on the tracks above, big and brawny. “Hm? What is it, Kayal?” he asked, looking down at his excited son, who clearly worked despite his youth with his father during the day.

“A customer! Revenue!” said Kayal brightly, without even looking at the brothers.

“What do you mean by revenue?!” Edward demanded, fists clenched, irritated temper still lost.

But the man immediately took off his hard hat and grinned. “Hey!”

And he led them back to his pub and inn that very evening. A gas lamp and a food sign hung outside of the small establishment. Inside the pub were wood flooring and walls, and a great deal of tables with chairs. The father’s wife, warm with a bun of hair, worked as a waitress at the pub alongside the rest of his family.

“Sorry if it’s a little bit dusty,” the man commented. “The salary for coal miners is low, so I’m working at this store at the same time.”

“What’re you saying, boss?!” said a man at the pub, laughing amid his other big, brawny, cheerful male coworkers. “You’re the one who’s taking cash away from guys with money problems!”

“The wife would cry!” another commented amid the big, laughing group.

“Shaddup!” the pub owner snapped, irritated, carrying over tankards of beer to their table. “If you got any complaints, pay your beer tab!”

“One night and two meals for two, right?” the wife asked the Elric brothers kindly, carrying a serving tray absently with her on her way from someone else’s table. 

“How much?” Edward asked, smiling, cheerful and friendly.

“It’s expensive,” the pub owner chuckled with a mischievous grin.

“Fear not, I have plenty on me,” said Edward, smiling and confident.

“Two hundred thousand!” the man shouted, and Edward was blown off his feet rather literally. (That’s about a thousand bucks in US terms, an insane amount of money.)

“There’s nothing good about a rip-off like that!” said Edward heatedly, nervous.

“That’s why I said ‘expensive’,” said the pub owner, stoical. “We have to get cash from the rare tourist.”

“Don’t joke around. I’ll go somewhere else,” Edward announced, tough face on and still a little uneasy, waving his hand to walk off out of the pub.

“Trying to get away, revenue?!” the pub owner said fearsomely, grabbing Edward, who looked genuinely terrified for a second.

“You’d better give up, bro,” said Kayal, smiling sheepishly. “It’s the same price everywhere else.”

“... Not enough…” Edward realized a few minutes later, taking the rest of his military-issued money out of his wallet, nervous.

Edward and Al were knelt on the floor in a corner, speaking in hushed whispers.

“In this situation, I could change this rock to gold through alchemy!” said Edward, plotting through his fear of having nowhere to sleep or eat.

“Gold transmutation is illegal by state alchemist law, isn’t it?!” Al whispered hurriedly, hand to his mouth, fearful.

Edward snickered, smirking. “If nobody finds out, we’re fine. If nobody finds out!”

“Brother, you’re evil!” said Al, but there was a smirk in his own voice now.

And then they looked over, and Kayal was kneeling right beside them, listening seriously. But instead of getting angry or fearful, he called matter of factly, “Dad! This guy’s an alchemist!”

And a few minutes later, Edward was clapping his hands and using alchemy to fix broken tools and coal mining instruments in the middle of the pub, smirking in satisfaction at everyone’s impressed amazement, at the awed murmurs and smiles spreading throughout the crowds in the pub.

“Well, I’m happy!” the pub owner admitted, watching the crowds alongside the brothers. “It’s been a while since I’ve had an alchemist as a customer. I used to do a little before.” He smiled cheerfully as he carried a plate up to Edward at a table. “Didn’t have any talent, so I quit studying. I’ll give you a discount as a favor to a fellow practitioner. And I’ll deduct the costs of repairing from the picture.”

Edward grinned. “Yes!”

“That’ll be one hundred thousand, with the huge discount,” said the pub owner.

“That’s still expensive!” Edward snapped, irritated.

As Edward dug in to eat, the pub owner said, “Hmm, you still haven’t told me your name.”

“Oh, right.” Edward was happily eyeing his food, cheerful, utensils poised. “Edward Elric.”

The pub owner paused - and smoothly pulled the plate from Edward’s grasp, his face serious, carefully neutral. Edward looked up uncertainly, nervous but trying to be friendly. “If you’re an alchemist named Elric…” said the pub owner quietly, “that would make you a state alchemist?”

And suddenly, the whole pub had gone dead silent, all the coal miners giving Edward serious glares.

“Maybe a little on the side…” Edward admitted, smiling nervously and reaching for his mug of tea - which was also yanked from his grasp by the pub owner. Edward gave a flat, exasperated glare.

“What’s your problem?!” Edward snapped in demand as the patrons loomed over him…

“Get out!” everyone called, and Edward and Al were unceremoniously and physically thrown out of the door of the pub into the street and the night air, trunk and all.

“Hey! We’re customers!” said Edward, indignant.

“Shoo! We don’t have any meals or beds for a dog of the military!” the pub owner snapped, angry.

“I’m a normal person!” Al waved a hand. “I’m not a state anything!”

“Oh, really?! Come on in!” said the pub owner, suddenly cheerful - but only to Al.

“Traitor!” Edward called indignantly, reaching out for Al.

But it was no use. Al was taken back into the pub and Edward was left outside. “Good grief, and I thought we’d gotten outsiders after such a long time,” one of the coal miners muttered as they all went back inside the pub.

“Don’t be a sissy,” said another, and the pub door closed.

“He’s not liked an awful lot,” Al observed, as he looked around quietly, sitting back down at a table. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Kayal, sour. “Everybody here really hates anyone in the military. First Lieutenant Yoki controls this place. He’s really money crazy. He’s the worst.”

The other patrons chimed in:

“The guys at Central really look like they love the guy, even when he keeps sending them bribes.”

“He bought his current rank, too.”

“He used to just be a coal mining proprietor but he got greedy for promotion.”

“Eh? Then this place is…” said Al slowly, realizing.

“Yeah, this place is Yoki’s private property,” one of the patrons in the pub agreed.

“He takes advantage of his rights,” complained another, “and lowers our salaries down to crumbs! And on top of that, all of the guys who try to complain about Yoki and his bribes get smashed up.”

“He sucks, right?!” said Kayal indignantly.

“And that guy became a state alchemist,” said the pub owner seriously, lowering a tray of food and steaming hot tea in front of Al. “‘Alchemists live for the sake of the people.’ A practitioner has common sense as well as pride.

“I can’t forgive anyone who would sell their soul to the state military for its many special privileges.”

The pub owner frowned down at his dusty floor, as if on some level turning someone away still bothered him.

-

Edward was trying to fall asleep on his trunk somewhere outside the pub near some coal mining carts, and having very little success. His stomach rumbled from hunger. “I’m hungry…” he moaned. “Damnit… Damn you, Al…”

Then Al walked up, carrying his tray of food and hot drink. He leaned down to a surprised Edward, who had been busy feeling sorry for himself.

“I secretly brought what they gave me,” said Al, who obviously did not need to eat.

“Little brother!” Edward called emotionally, latching suddenly onto Al like he was the best person in the world. Apparently with the plying of some good food all was quickly forgiven.

“You only care about yourself… Geez,” said Al, mildly exasperated.

They sat beside each other near the mining carts and Al told Edward what had happened.

“Yeah… corrupt officials are everywhere,” Edward admitted casually as he ate.

“And because of them, these people can’t get enough food,” said Al.

Edward paused in surprise - and lowered his food, solemn. “... I see,” he said quietly, as if already he were coming to some sort of decision.

The plight of hungry, poverty stricken people moved him.

Then he turned indignant, more purposefully light-hearted. “And thanks to that First Lieutenant Yoki, we were treated pretty badly. Everybody hates the military… even in good times, but we wouldn’t get treated that badly.

“When I decided to become a state alchemist, I was prepared for a little criticism, but…” Edward sighed philosophically, matter of fact. “To be hated this much…” he said idly.

“... Maybe I should try to get a state alchemist license,” said Al quietly, obviously wanting to be beside his brother and feeling guilty.

“Quit it, quit it!” Edward grinned uneasily, laughing it off. “It’ll be enough for me to just sit on this bed of thorns myself!

“To go so low as to be a dog of the military, huh?” He stared into his steaming cup of hot tea. “I don’t have anything to say to that, though,” he admitted, as if knowing they were right. He had, after all, joined the military for the stone search and research opportunities it offered.

“Plus, we ignored the ban and got these bodies…” said Al softly, looking up at the sky. 

Edward frowned, his tough face on, neutral.

“What would Sensei say…” said Edward thoughtfully to himself, serious. Then they started shaking, terrified at the very idea. “... We’d be killed…!” They shuddered, horrified, picturing her reaction. Their Sensei’s female status always seemed to add to their utter terror of her anger and her extremely short temper.

Then they heard a slam and a shouted, “Out of the way!” come from the pub.

They looked over in surprise… and saw First Lieutenant Yoki in blue uniform and his uniformed military henchmen walk through the inn doors of Kayal’s father’s place.

-

“Such a dirty store as usual, Hulling,” said Yoki with contempt as he walked in with his henchmen, a handkerchief over his nose as if to stifle some awful smell.

“It’s you, First Lieutenant.” Hulling, Kayal’s father, scowled, carefully neutral. “Welcome to this filthy place.”

“Nice greeting,” Yoki smirked, handkerchief still delicately over his nose and mouth. “It seems that this place isn’t paying its taxes.” Yoki shook a finger condescendingly. “This does not stop at you. I could say the same for everyone in this town.”

“I apologize,” said Hulling. “I can’t do anything about our pay being low.”

“Hmph. And yet, there is more than enough to just enjoy alcohol?” said Hulling, eyeing the silent and scowling men at the pub table playing cards. “Which means, it would be acceptable to lower your income a little?”

“Wha?!” said the men indignantly.

“Why, you…!” Kayal growled, fists clenched. Then he threw a dirty dish towel right at Yoki, hitting him in the face. “Don’t push us around!”

“First Lieutenant!” A military henchmen growled and glared at Kayal. “You little runt!”

Yoki calmly took off the dish towel, frowning, and back-handed child Kayal right across the face, knocking him to the floor.

“Kayal!” Hulling called out in alarm as his son fell.

A henchman unsheathed his sword. “Don’t give him any mercy because he’s a child,” said Yoki, waving lazily.

Kayal, who had been getting to his feet, froze in horror as the sword was lifted above his body. “This is a warning,” the henchman smirked. The sword was flung down - Hulling physically screamed out loud -

And Edward was there, blocking the swing from hitting Kayal, guarding with his metal automail arm. A calm, sharp, determined glare was on his face.

Everyone including Yoki and the henchman gasped as the henchman’s sword broke in half from hitting the automail.

“What the?! Who is this ruffian?!” Yoki yelped.

“A passersby ruffian,” said Edward casually, taking a sip from his mug.

“This has nothing to do with you! Stay out of this!” Yoki snapped, irritated. Apparently he didn’t feel he could order an attack on someone not under his direct control.

“Nah, I saw the First Lieutenant, so I figured…” Edward smirked and took an intricately carved pocket watch from his waistband. “Why not say hi?”

“This is… what…” Yoki bent down over the watch, puzzled, hand to his chin… And panic overtook his face.

The Fuhrer’s crest! The hexagram gold watch! he thought in alarm.

“First Lieutenant, who’s that kid?” the henchman began in confusion, pointing, and then Yoki slapped him over the back of the head. “Ow!”

“You moron!” Yoki hissed, leaning over so only the henchman could hear him. “Haven’t you heard of the state alchemists?! The agency that’s under the direct control of the Fuhrer?!”

“Are you serious?! That pipsqueak?!” said the henchman incredulously.

Edward couldn’t overhear what they were saying, but stood there in frowning annoyance. He thought he’d heard ‘pipsqueak’ somewhere in there.

“This is my chance!” Yoki hissed under his breath to the henchman.

“Huh?”

“I’ll be able to make some connections in Central if I make a good impression!”

“What cunning, First Lieutenant!”

The whispered conversation ended and Yoki leaned over to Edward, hands folded and smile smarmy. “I apologize for my subordinate. I am Yoki, the governor of this town. It must be some sort of fate that we met like this.” The Youswell people were clearly irritated as they watched. “Don’t stay in this filthy place! This might be a town in the country, but we have the perfect lodgings!”

Edward gave his false, helpful beam. “Then I’ll let you take care of things, since this old man wouldn’t let me stay here because he’s stingy!” There was a little passive aggressive emphasis on the last part.

Hulling glared.

“Do you understand?! The taxes will definitely be paid!” said Yoki, pointing at Hulling. “I’ll be back!” And Yoki and his people left with Edward, the pub door slamming shut behind them.

Al stood there awkwardly amid the Youswell people in the pub, somewhat concerned.

“What a pain in the ass?!” Kayal shouted, putting a hand to his forehead.

“Which one?” said Al. It was a good question.

“BOTH!” two of the patrons of the pub yelled.

But Edward had left more serious than he appeared - and not quite as fooled as they’d been led to believe. He had a plan.


End file.
